Page 65 of Ex's Accidental Baby

I go limp when I come, clenching around him, and Logan groans against my throat, biting a mark there that will probably bruise.

I reach a second orgasm, and a third, before he’s finished, moaning into my mouth as he kisses me, spilling inside me with a pulse and a gasp.

He slowly lowers me to the ground, breathing hard, staring down into my face.

I adjust myself slowly, and Logan’s eyes have fire in them.

“Get out.”

“What? We just?—”

“Get out, Meredith. If you don’t, I’ll interrogate you about who he is again. I need some time.”

“Time? We work together?—”

“We don’t have to see each other. I’ll stay in my office. You stay at her desk.”

I stand there for a moment, shocked.

He really just fucked me up against his office door, and now he’s telling me to get out?

Well, I’m not going to wait for him to change his mind. I storm out and back to my desk.

Dina looks up at me. “What happened?—”

“Not now,” I hiss, and she throws her hands up.

I sigh.

I seem to be pushing everyone away, but I don’t know how to deal with all of this.

ChapterEighteen

LOGAN

I throwmyself into work and by the time the day is finished, we’re almost ready to open to the public. All my mechanics are ready to be scheduled, and I glare down at Paul’s availability sheet.

Maybe he’s not the guy who knocked her up, but I know he likes her. He was hitting on her at Bennigan’s, and he was flirting with her today, too.

But unfortunately, Meredith is right. I can’t fire him just because he flirts with my ex-girlfriend. Even though I want to. Actually, part of me wants to kill him.

I’m glad this didn’t happen back when we were younger, because I probably would have hunted down whoever impregnated her and kill him. Hell, maybe I still will.

When she tells Grayson, he’ll hound her for a name.

I have a brief fantasy of Grayson and me hunting down the guy who knocked up Meredith, but in the end, I know nothing will come of that.

I can’t kill him just because he slept with the woman I love.

Murder is frowned upon, unfortunately, even if I find it justified.

By the time I open my office door, everyone has gone home, and the lights are out. The only person still there is Bryce, sitting at his desk in the dark.

I walk over to him sheepishly. “Bryce?"

“Are you going to throw something at me again?”

I groan. “No. I’m really sorry, Bryce. I know I’ve been in a foul mood.”

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